Having failed in is endeavour to acquire some weapons, Havelock instead turned towards trying to get his hands on some of the other times on the list. Seeing as how the crew of the Void wolf was not the most well trained in a battle at the moment, it seemed logical to procure something that could help them avoid battle, or attack from ambush, something that Havelock had experienced a few times during his time with the imperial guard.
Camo cloaks were the ideal component, and at a place like port wander you could find anything if you just knew where to look. With that in mind Havelock took his impromptu honour guard and headed towards an outpost for the military. From his memories, the guards often had more of certain supplies than they needed, and making a sale should give them the resources they needed to buy something better. In fact, if he could procure the cloaks the Demetrius Dynasty might make more business with the military here at a later date.
Jerol, you don't get much further before you find three young street toughs approaching you, hands on the knives in their belt.
Oi... Whats yer business down here? Don' cha know theres a toll, sirrah? the biggest of them says, practically spitting the words out in Low Gothic.
Havelock returns to the ship two days later to inform the cargo master that a shipment of camo cloaks will be arriving soon, probably delivered by some junior officer of the imperial guards or SDF, remembering his time in the military makes Havelock suspect that the duty will fall on the shoulders of whomever aggravated the officer of the day the most that morning.
But the successful negotiations (and some of the credit certainly falls to Lion) has certainly put a spring in Havelocks steps, and erased some of the glumness that had settled on him lately.
It still irked him that his brethren should have been so unwilling to lend support to the endeavour, despite the great possibilities it could entail. But such was ever the way of many a narrow minded Magos.
It was Explorators like Havelock that was out there, risking life, limb and even soul to discover new things, and rediscover the treasures of old...the Magos were often confined safe and sound within the shrines of the Omnisiah...
All the chapter at port wander had to risk was some las guns, and seeing as the forges of even a smaller place like port wander were likely to churn out weapons enough to fill such an order easily they had still not been willing to do so.
Havelock considered for a moment his loyalties, in theory his first loyalty would always lie with the Cult, and his second loyalty with the dynasty...but sometimes the lines blurred and became hard to read.
The area around his eyes crinkled a little, if he had still had all his facial features one could almost suspect the Explorator of smiling wryly.
Lion had felt that he was very close to closing the deal but then someone stepped in and blocked the sale offering by half a throne more each.
Half a throne!
Lion glared at the oh so polite apology from the trader that had sold the visors to an un-named competitor. It included a polite apology and a wish to do future business with Rogue Trader Demetrius.
Lion was half tempted to hurl the slate against the wall.
Instead he called out, 'Kilbert! Get me the cream cake. Yes, that one. The one that I've been saving. I'm in a foul mood and in need of thinking material.'
Kilbert hastened to obey. This was not a time to discuss Lion's last need for 'blessing' oils to fit into his void suit.
Lion studied the slate again. The whole regiment lot of visors suddenly bought up just when he should be making a purchase and the offer was but half a crown difference? Someone had talked. Someone had talked and likely gotten paid betraying his trust.
Lion expected this sort of thing but it still hurt to find that he was vindicated in his suspicion of his underlings.
Lion would now have to take deep pleasure in finding the traitor in his nest making them talk as to which of those that harboured ill will towards him and his family's line was behind this betrayal.
Jerol stared the man straight in the face, sure he could probably whip out his long has and evaporate him where he stood, the other two guys would be on him right away though, best to try and avoid a confrontation all together. Time to formulate a plan.
He looked straight at the big one, and tried to put on as thick a low gothic accent he could manage.
Wait, ya sayin' ya din't hear? Thers' a big warehouse just down ere, some guys blew the door off but killed emselves in the process, tonnes of stuff just up fur grabs. We better get there fast or there'll be nuffin left
Heh, nice try topworlder. Look, you've obviously got someplace down 'ere to be, and we obviously need thrones. We won't enjoy shivving you down some dark alley, but we gotta get by right? How abouts... you pay us eight hundred thrones, and we'll be your 'escorts' heh...
To a man such as yourself, teight hundred thrones is a pittance, pocket change you would generally carry on you at any time. Down here, eight hundred thrones is enough for a man to retire...
Lion knew people were active in the Port and seeking his failure. They had someone gotten into his last deal and taken away the sale of the cheap visors.
If he had been a sector closer inward and on a world with even a small hive, he could have tossed a couple of thousand thrones on the ground and gotten the crowd that gathered to trade him for the ones they were wearing. They'd probably have been of a better quality too.
Still, you couldn't spend all your day eating cream cake and dwelling on failures of the past.
Lion still had one thing left that he wanted to try and obtain.
There was a need for more fire power for their troops. Lasguns were cheap and reliable. The lack of ammo supply problems made them a logistic dream in the far future. They were easy to maintain, clean, reliable, proven technology.
Generals loved them and Quarter Masters couldn't sing their praises high enough compared to some of the exotic ammo that things like bolters required.
The only problem is that they looked like plastic toys and barely made a hum when fired.
Every Governor, Warlord, and Pirate King hated the things.
In the arms business there are two key selling points.
The first selling point was the weapon should be noisy and flashy. Not flashy like in spandex green but flashy in bright muzzle flashes that signified great amounts of death and destruction were occurring. If a weapon sounded and looked like a rocket ship taking off then it was around the right level of flash and noise to be a good seller.
The second selling point was the weapon should look ugly. Ugly weapons are often considered to have a special 'mystic' to them. People seem to associate ugly weapons with being a weapon pared down to the core essential components that were strictly functional with no extra 'specials' that would cost more and just jam or fail during the first 'field' run anyways. In arms sales, ugly was good.
This is why a top seller in the arms business was the Assault Stubber. The twin barrels had all the ugly a Pirate Captain could love along with the bruising noise of a chainsaw chipping on granite.
Show this weapon to a bunch of primitives and they'd hand over the rights to the village and all the surrounding land to just get one into their private collection. Bring one with you to a battle and you'll never have to worry on people using bows and arrows, they'll just cower in fear from the noise alone.
Now, if only he could find enough of these show stopper pieces.
Lion cringed at the price he was being asked to pay. You would think that buying in bulk would amount to some sort of discount.
Then again, it wasn't every day that someone wanted enough Assault Stubbers to outfit a regiment. It would allow their Division to field roughly one Assault Stubber for every 5 to 10 men.
That was enough extra fire power to make any general smile.
After committing all these resources to the venture, Lion truly hoped the venture paid off.
On the other hand, if it didn't prove to be as valuable a claim as the slates suggested, they'd be well on their way to having the firepower to forcing a claim on many worlds in the expanse.
Jerol almost laughed, eight hundred thrones? That was almost nothing! Then again, he reminded himself, these under worlders did have almost nothing. He was tempted to hand over all eight hundred right away, but he wasn't quite that stupid, they would definitely shiv him at the first chance given if he did that.
He had to make it look like eight hundred was a pain to give up, if he just handed it over readily, they would demand more.
He looked straight at the head of this little gang and tried his best to look disappointed.
Eight 'undred? Really? My family'll be goin hungry for a month now, I 'ope your happy
I reached into his pocket and brought out four hundred thrones, he made a display of finding them and counting them, as if they were very precious to him.
Half now, half when we're done.
He said, offering out the money to the largest of the three men.
The three gangers eagerly accept your thrones, smiling gleefully to one another when they think you aren't looking, and quietly cackling in delight at making such a huge sum. Due to your escorts, you receive no further trouble on your way to the factory the traders mentioned- a two story affair with multiple windows and a single set of double doors. The place looks deserted, and a strong-looking chain with a sturdy lock secures the doors...
Er... This was where you wanted to go right? We'll be taking our thrones now...
These three must know something about this place- they are trying to keep up a pretence of confidence but they seem unnerved.
Jerol looked felt uneasy, something seemed odd, out of place. He couldn't put his finger on it.
He eventually gave up, his instincts must be leading him astray. He passed over the 400 thrones as promised and cut the chain with his power sword. Putting it away, he took out his long las and preceded cautiously, making sure he had a hot shot pack loaded into his long las.
Jerol looked felt uneasy, something seemed odd, out of place. He couldn't put his finger on it.
d100
He eventually gave up, his instincts must be leading him astray. He passed over the 400 thrones as promised and cut the chain with his power sword. Putting it away, he took out his long las and preceded cautiously, making sure he had a hot shot pack loaded into his long las.
With a few semi-respectful remarks, the gangers leave you be, and tell you to pop in and visit the Knivesies gang anytime you happen to be in Port Wander again. Their teethy grins leave you a little unsure if the invitation was benign though. You enter the main factory floor, cautiously. It is a massive structure, with huge amounts of floor space and weapon components. The place seems deserted in this first floor where massive factory lines now lie silent- but above you, you can make out the sounds of slow footsteps on the iron flooring. One thing is for sure- the factory isn't currently producing guns, and there are none to be found down here; at least on this floor. Two sets of stairs lead up to the next level.
Jerol preceded cautiously up the stairs, looking around for the people that the footsteps belonged to. He took each step as slowly as possible, making sure to roll his feet to give the maximum amount of sound dampening on his footsteps. As he reached the top of the stairs, he let his eyes full adjust to his surroundings, he looked down the sight of his long las and peered around.
Sneaking up the stairs, you manage to maintain almost total silence as you ascend slowly and carefully, vaguely trying to recall the tips the scout regiment gave the rank and file on your fortress world. You reach the second level, and risk peeking your head around the corner. You manage to get a good look, and you don't think you were seen.
The second floor appears to be mostly a warehouse facility, with dozens of crates of ammunition and weaponry. You spot several men in Imperial Guard uniform, one of them lazily smoking a lho-stick as he keeps an eye on the stairs and the level below via a balcony you missed. Some others are moving crates around, seemingly placing them in a smaller antechamber. It looks like they are cleaning the place out...
Success, 1 degree
The lack of a sergeant, and the men's general slouching and demeanour, as well as the smoking- could indicate to the casual observer that these men are making some money on the side with their time off. You know better however; these men are clearly deserters from their regiment.
Jerol sat there for a while, studied where they were moving and which ones were patrolling. He chose his moment and crept up to the crate, waiting for the guardsman to appear around the side of the crate, at which point he would grab him, and try and interrogate some type of information out of him.
Awearness
Concealment
Move silently
WS
Jerol manages to accidently bump into a crate while sneaking around it, having got about halfway to his intended target. The crate crashes to the iron flooring with an unmistakeable clatter. Jerol stays out of sight, but the Guardsmen react almost immediately, the lookout asking with a mixture of alarm, fear and anticipation-
Whos there? Show yourself!
Weapons up lads... Looks like we got company...
Jerol sat there for a moment, he considered just standing up and shooting, however he didn't really want to shed blood where he didn't have to. Plus he full sympathised with them, having been forced into almost slaveitude himself. He put his hands up in the air and slowly stood up as he said
Wait, don't shoot, i'm standing up slowly
Jerol stands to find himself confronted by half a dozen men, pointing lasguns at him but looking rather unnerved.
He don't look like Arbites...
Who are you. State your business here! Don't give us a reason to open fire, i'm warning ye...
Jerol looked around at the guardsmen, they looked a little downtrodden, not much spirit left in them. Still, if they had the guts to run away from the imperial guard, he was sure he could find a use for them.
My name is Jerol Soeul, I come with a business proposition for you. Its quite clear to me that you are deserters from the imperial guard, not that I hold that against you, I did after all run away from my own fortress world. I am the pilot aboard the void wolf, perhaps you might consider enlisting?
As he said this, he slowly lowered his hands, moving them nearer to his long las, he didn't plan on using it, but he didn't want to be undefended if the suddenly opened fire.
The deserters begin to laugh at the proposition.
So your a headhunter recruiting from abandoned warehouses and another deserter eh? Seems a tad unlikely. Tell us about this Void Wolf while we're still humouring you... As for us, we're just here to make some thrones and then we planned to disappear into Footfall.
Jerol's cheeks twitched as he repressed a smile, he can imagine it from their side, someone sneaks into the warehouse he was in and suddenly launches a business proposal when found. Hardly the normal way of precedings.
He let his arms fall completely to his sides, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. He decided the truth was the best course of action here.
Look, I was trying to buy a shotgun pistol from the port, they told me that the factory inexplicably shut down, I came to look, nothing more than that.
He started to walk towards them, making sure he had cover between him and them at all times however, he wasn't stupid.
Look guys, it takes a hell of a lot of guts to ditch the imperial guard, we could use you aboard the void wolf. And we'll look after you a dam site better than they did. And how many people can claim to be part of a new dynasty? Your choice, but you'll be fools to turn me down.
Lasgun sights follow you as you move, but they are lowered. The leader nods for you to come forward, and the conversation continues at a more relaxed level.
Heh... Ok you seem like an ok sort. Cards up on the table. I'm Garin, and theres thirty of us- we've all served for at least a decade and we're sick of risking our lives for commanders that throw us in the meat grinder, so to speak. We have a contact who promised us a much better price for a horde of them pistols in Footfall; and the factory owner has been arrested so its been derelict. However- we haven't yet secured passage there. The whole thing is obviously rather... illegal- and we need to make sure the ship we're on is not searched. Or if it is, that he cargo isn't found... You say you have a ship and your part of one of them Rogue Trader dynasties? It seems to me that we can help each other out...
Garin goes on to propose that you give them and their smuggled cargo passage to Footfall- and endeavour to make sure your not searched by the authorities. In return, he and his thirty men will join your crew as an slightly more elite company of troops. They appear to be a cut above the mercenaries you hired, and better equipped. They will of course, secure a pistol for yourself too.
Jerol thought about it for a minute, he was perfectly fine with smuggling the cargo, however, other members of the crew might not be so accommodating to illegal activities. Still, 30 battle hardened troops would be quite hard to turn down. He made up his mind.
Good to be doing business with you
He moved towards Garin and shakes his hand.
Ill head back to my ship and secure the transport of all this equipment. I doubt we'll have much trouble with the authorities, after all, a Rogue Trader ranks above port control significantly
Jerol begins to land the Void Wolf in the fabled Port Wander- gateway to the Koronus Expanse. The mighty void station is something between an orbital station and a hive city, as the settlement has continually changed, retrofitted and grown to suit the needs of the Rogue Traders sailing into the Koronus Expanse.
'Captain Demetrius, I just received word from Quint that all crew are accounted for and the last of Lion's pastries are being loaded into the cargo bay. Shall I begin services for the Emperor's Blessing to protect us on the voyage to Orb?'
Yes. Gather the command crew. Thule says curtly, his mind clearly elsewhere for a moment. When you are all assembled, you all work out the administration of the various acquisitions you made, taking stock of them. Thule also makes an announcement.
Our pilot prodigy and Voids Master Jerol managed to acquire the services of 30 elite ex-Imperial guard mercenaries. I would like ideas on how to best put them to use; perhaps as the core of our fighting force? A Vanguard? In return for their service, I have assured their leader Garin that we shall smuggle their small cargo of weapons to Footfall, where they are sorely needed in the Emperor's service to help keep a heretical cult from becoming pre-eminent there.
Thule's stern gaze encompasses you all before he continues.
The Administratum are likely to view this sacred delivery as smuggling, so it would be best if we could persuade the Port Authorities not to go through the compulsary search of our ship- or if they do, to turn a blind eye to that particular cargo. Now, I have tasks for you all in addition to your usual duties; I plan on testing your abilities and initiative over the course of this voyage to Footfall and then to Orb, and you shall see very little of me unless needs must.
Lion, your performance aboard Port Wander was stellar. I'd like you to bring the same charm and dedication to bear ensuring the Port Authorities do not take issue with our cargo. I also expect you to act as my voice aboard the vessel for the time being, and once we arrive on Orb; you will be in charge of diplomacy with the natives, along with Praetia.
Minerva, I will not have need of your dedication while I am mostly retired within my private rooms. You are to serve Lion for the time being, and assist him in any way he feels is necessary. Lion, I shall require the services of your own bodyguard in exchange.
Jerol- in addition to your piloting duties, i'd like you to supervise the drilling of the mercenaries in las weaponry tactics. It wouldn't hurt to keep them sharp, and you appear to be a crack shot.
Havelock and Praetia- you are to stamp out this Xenos cult within the engineering crew by any means necessary. Let me assure you, Missionary, Explorator, that I am well aware that the Xenos technology we use serves the Emperor, not the other way around; as you yourself once said. Let us make sure the crew has no confusion on this matter. Praetia, I also expect a few preliminary plans of action with what to do with the natives.
Is there any other business? If not, set a course for Footfall at once.
What's left of Havelock's face contorts several times as he attempts to lick his no longer existing lips, a subtle reminder that he is more man than machine, once he catches himself doing it he shakes his head quickly and then speaks.
"Captain, I've served with the Imperial guards for some time, and in my experience, the men who manages to live long enough to become "Elite" are often not too keen on risking their own lives needlessly, however, they bring a lot of survival experience to the table. It may serve our needs best if we assign these men to train the rest, especially our own crew, If we divide them up in 10 teams, one senior and two subordinates, each put in charge of training a single fire team, we may be able to swiftly impart vital skills to our own fighting force. Once that task is complete they could be reassembled to a coherent fighting unit once more and become our main problem solvers."
Havelock nods as he and Praetia is assigned a task together, it makes sense for both authorities on the spiritual to be seen working together, that alone would quell some of the xeno worship. Besides, Havelock was curious to see how it would be to work with Praetia, and to study her.
"The task is well in hand my Captain, we shall not fail you. I believe there are some members of the engineering crew who's loyalty I can depend on fully, with their help as well as the help of Praetias clergy we shall find and stamp out the heresy before it can grow."
Lion was sitting and preparing to eat a light cream and custard confection that he had found. It was a present to himself after several hard weeks work when the call came to attend the Rogue Trader's briefing.
Lion made to preparatory moves to consider to eat the delicious morsel with its circle of powdery heaven but each time stopped.
To eat the confection now and then attend the meeting would wash its sweetness from his mouth and have it lay heavy on his stomach. It was far better when he should have the peace of mind to give the proper and due consideration to the treat he had been blessed to experience.
Kilbert, my dress robes with the blue edge and the red stripes. Yes, I know what I said on the stripes making me look like I have balloons for legs. But stripes do make me look thinner.
---------------
Lion listened to the Rogue Trader's instructions and nodded.
Lion nodded not because he necessarily agreed with the Rogue Trader but because it was important to look like he agreed.
The rumours of changes occurring to Rogue Trader Demitrius were greatly understated. The man was clearly suffering from contact with the mutants of the Dark Mechanicus.
Maybe the officers should start considering plans should Rogue Trader Demitrius suffer further mutation. He was already starting to isolate himself. It was the first stages that Imperial Citizens were to watch for. But who should he speak to?
You can't just go suggesting that a Rogue Trader has suffered a 'mutation' and become dangerous. It just wasn't done.
Yet, if he started to act more erratic then something might have to be done.
This whole statement of testing was a cleaver ploy to put his officers looking at each other for possible faults instead of looking at the Rogue Trader. Lion knew the ploy because he had used it himself many times.
It also allowed the Rogue Trader freedom to do as he wanted because anything erratic could be written off as 'testing'.
Last, the Rogue Trader was moving those people closest to him like Minerva farther away so they wouldn't spot the changes occurring.
'The Wise Merchant ties a bow.' was the saying. It meant that you could sell any junk to an audience if you tied a bit thread to it and called it 'festive'.
----------------
'Praetia, I might have a couple of suggestions to discuss later on helping you locate the Xeno-lovers.'
Another possibility has occured to you- what if Minerva has been assigned to you to keep an eye on you? Shes likely going to be reporting your every move to him...
Of course she might be involved. Lion suspects everyone of having agendas and most of those agendas are not favourable to Lion.
Minerva is still reporting back to the Rogue Trader who has been infected by the Mutants.
Praetia is part of the engine of the Inquistition along with several of her priests.
Havelock serves the Omnisiah which is a heretical group that is one step away from breaking away from the Imperium in a major revolution. Every noble knows that if you control the weapons of a country then one day you're going to decide to use those weapons to spark a 'revolution'. He isn't even fully human now.
Jerol has started to wisely recruit his own private army of mercenaries that are loyal to him. He has thirty loyal mercenaries that are better then guardsmen and Lion has had his one person that he could trust removed.
Everyone is suspect in their goals.
It is the only way to survive.
'All hands sound the bell to summon the shore parties aboard. Jerol get your crews ready to cast off the lines and secure the cargo. Havelock make sure your crews have the engines standing by for pulling out of Port Wanderer. Minerva make sure the shore parties have rounded up the last of the stragglers and placed on report any that fail to show as AWOL with suitable fines recorded and final pay deducted. Praetia see that your priests have properly shriven the crew of their sins in port and are taking steps to amend their ways. Nothing worse then crew hiding secret sins to invite the warp into their hearts. Better a few lashes then a lifetime being lost in the warp. I'll settle up the accounts with the Port Authorities and receive permission to head out for Footfall.'
Havelock sketches a perfunctory salute at Lion and nods.
"The engines will be ready in time for our departure Lion, any failure by the crew shall be taken out on their hides, which should keep them motivated."
"As the captain seems to have put you in charge, are there any additional orders?"
Havelock glances at Praetia. "Once the preparations are complete we should talk about how we are to solve the problem of the Xeno cult, shall I meet you in the shrine?"
Havelock then turns to Jerol. "As the captain seems to have left the fate of the ex guardsmen you recruited more or less up to us, how do you feel about my suggestion? Perhaps you've already thought of something you like to use them for? If not as trainers to improve our own troops, then maybe some of them have scouting skills? A unit of scouts need the kind of independence and self reliance that they seem to posses, I think we could probably spare some of the camo cloaks to outfit them with as well."
Jerol turned to Lion and nodded.
Ill get it done right away
After making a few motions to the deck hands, he turned to Havelock.
That might be a good idea, however do we even have any camo cloaks? And perhaps it may be best not to break up the unit, the commander seems to have fairly strong loyalty from the troops. We could always have two divisions under his command, with him ultimately reporting to us. It would achieve the same objective, and the troops would still feel that they were working for their commander, a win win situation.
Havelock glances at Praetia. "Once the preparations are complete we should talk about how we are to solve the problem of the Xeno cult, shall I meet you in the shrine?"
'No, let us meet in the Library. Master Jerol, as soon as we are safely out of port, please join us. I may have need of you.'
...
Praetia arrives to the library early and waits for the others to arrive. She didn't expect to see Thule in attendance, and she wasn't quite ready for him to hear her plan anyway. Lion would probably be steamed that he wasn't invited, and she would undoubtedly hear about it later.
'Thank you for coming. Let's get right down to it. These Xeno-worshippers are going to be difficult to root out amongst the rest of the crew. I believe the best way to expose these heretics is with fear.'
'Firstly, Master Jerol, once we are through the Koronus Passage, I would like it if you could arrange a little "turbulence", on the order of a warp storm. Nothing drastic, just enough to get the crew a little shaken up. Would that be possible?'
'This is where you come in, Brother Havelock. After Jerol gives the Void Wolf a good jostle, I would like you tamper a bit with the Gellar Field generator... Don't give me that look! Of course you won't actually disrupt it, but at least make it look to your own crew that the field may be faltering. Sound the klaxons and call all hands to their stations.'
'At this point, I would like either Captain Thule or Master Jerol to come over the vox and declare that a creature of the Warp is trying to assault the ship and and it seems to be focused on the Xeno-turrets. The whole time, the Acolytes and I will lying in wait in the turrets. It is at times like these (that we will be creating) that the void-born reach out to those that they truly trust. Then, we will see who among the battery crew are faithful servants of the Emperor. Those who don't grovel and whimper adequately will be given the opportunity to die "in a state of grace." A throne for your thoughts?'
'... of course, if that doesn't work, then we lock the entire turret crew in an exterior compartment and slowly de-pressurize it until they confess or expose their own.'
Lion looked over the lists the Port Authorities were sending him of charges and expenses for air, water, foods, energy, oribatal rebalancing, hydropic conditioning, waste recyling, crew fines, shore party fees, damages to businesses, hotel skips, docking charges, navigation assistance, warehousing, stevedores fees, inspection fees, warrants for dangerous goods, alcohol distribution charges, administration fees, transportation of goods to and from the warehousing and inspection warehouse, decontamination fees, merchant licensing fees, and dozens of more accounts.
You'd think they were raiding the vaults of the God-Emperor himself the way they found new ways to charge costs to the Void Wolf.
And all the accounts had to be closed and paid before Port Wanderer would release the cables to cast off. It had been bad enough when he had served on Naval Vessels but merchant vessels seemed to hang large signs on the sides of their ships saying, 'Please Fleece Me'.
When all the stations sang the hymn of readiness, Lion signaled Jerol to take Command of the bridge while he went to the Navigation temple to begin planning the ritual for their travel to Footfall.
Three Cheers for the Captain!
Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!
I would like Jerol and Hevelock's thoughts before I present to the Captain.
Havelock taps his face grill as he considers Praetias words, the plan is certainly sound, but there is still something that feels a little off...
"I see how you have planned it, and it could certainly work, in general principle however I would like to make a few points.
1: This is sure to come back to the crew; it may end up fostering a sense of distrust towards us as well as their crewmates.
2: If we create a situation like this we may risk alienating crewmembers that previously were loyal.
3: It may lead to situations where crew responses in the future are less skill full and apt as the crew wonder if it is a real situation or another test.
As I said, the plan is sound, but I still worry about the long-term repercussions, a loyal crew is a good crew, and fear is the easiest bond to break, often with grave consequences for those that instil the fear."
Havelock pauses and draws breath, his mechandrites whirrs agitatedly as he speaks again.
"The problem is, right now I cannot think of a good alternative to your plan sister Praetia, loyalty is harder to inspire than fear, and while I believe we all have some crew we can turn to and expect loyalty, it may not be enough."
Havelock pauses, embarrassed that he should speak out against a plan without having one himself to offer instead.
"Perhaps we have been a little remiss in our duties, we are meant to lead our crew, to inspire them and offer guidance, perhaps we need to be out there more, to be seen, to be a beacon of light in a harsh universe, and in such a way follow the emperor himself. He suffers so that we need not, and we are loyal to him, perhaps that is the best example of all?"
I would like Jerol and Hevelock's thoughts before I present to the Captain.
Praetia contemplated his response for a moment.
'Beyond that metallic mask lies a wise man. You are correct. We know where the heretics lie and to make the entire crew suffer for their crimes would only sow dissent.'
'It is best that we go for the second option and make an example of them. The Xeno-heretics may be willing to take their blasphemy to the grave, but the threat of being lost to the void will force the faithful to expose the transgressors.'
"I believe this to be a more prudent action, after all, most of the crew will be wise enough to see that we are protecting them from dark forces, they may indeed thank us for this. I believe you sister Praetia may be the key here, the honest crew will look at you punishing these heretics as a sign of the emperors favour and will have their faith strengthen when they see one of his chosen taking firm but decisive action to root out those that would cause the righteous harm."
Havelock nods. "And when they see we are not going to persecute those that are already righteous at heart, they will no doubt appreciate the emperors mercy."
Havelock points at Praetia. "You have the presence to inspire men, something that I myself lack, with you at the helm, this will all seem that much more important and awe inspiring to the crew."
Lion took his customary place on the bridge in the Choir loft and past the rood screen at the great book 'Galactica'.
This was the corridor that his ancestor Abenicus Benetek had found and navigated. He feels the history in his every choice of the Litany.
The course may have become familiar but this did not make it routine. There were ever ways to improve upon the journey or to cat the right flow of the warp.
Fools thought ships powered their way through the warp like a bug digging a hole in the sand. Navigators knew the warp was a sea of currents with tides and calms that took careful attention to move with to gain the best advantage.
Blunder too hard against the flow of the Warp and it would smash even a dreadnought to pieces.
The Void Wolf was no dreadnought but it possessed a will of its own when it was in the warp as if it could sense the best flows and swim the deep warp like a tuna in the ocean.
Lion could hear the light of the God-Emperor's beacon flowing through him almost as strong as their last stop. It was an arrow showing him the path from Port Wanderer to Footfall.
His third eye open he could see, touch, and feel the warp like a second skin. His being instinctively could feel the warp's ebb and flow. He could almost hear its name singing to him in the maelstrom of the Warp.
Many called this passage 'The Maw' for the souls it devoured but on this day it is a wave crest that the Void Wolf rides.
The ship that entered the warp at Port Wanderer exits at Footfall is blazing time.
It may be many months before it is official and recognized by the Navis Nobilate but he is fairly sure that the Void Wolf has set a new record for time crossing the Maw. If it is confirmed and verified then it will be a special citation for the ship and the crew that will be recorded in the annals of the Imperium.
Many Captains might declare their preference for some of the mutant scum that claim the title of Navigator but were born under strange suns or no suns. Lion Benetek was proof that old blood ran true and still could lick the charts of the new impostor houses.
Havelock turns to Jerol and nods respectfully.
"May we also hear your thoughts about what have been said so far void master? As for that other question of yours before, according to the quartermaster, we have somewhere between 500-1000 camo cloaks in store now, so taking 30 or so to outfit your unit would be no problems, there is still enough to either trade or outfit a large number of the crew, perhaps even both once we have the exact figures."
Havelock once more taps his faceplate as he considers suggesting that perhaps they would do well to appropriate one cloak each as well, they could come in handy in the future.
'So, the easy way it is. Once they are assembled, I will ask politely if anyone knows of the Xenos-cult. If I get no response, I will reveal the blasphemous charms and ask again for the heretics to come forth. If no response, I'll need you to decompress the chamber slightly to show we mean business. If still none come forth, then they have sealed their own fate. Let their alien gods protect them where the Emperor will not'
'Havelock, let me know when you can assemble the turret crews in one of the exterior compartments. Make sure it has plenty of anchor-points for me to latch onto. Is it possible to set up a vox-corder to capture the heretics' confessions? Let me know when everything is set. I will inform the Captain the the others and we will begin as soon as you are ready.'
The journey to Footfall was done in a matter of days, easily the fastest journey from Port Wander to Footfall through the Warp the crew has ever experienced. Praetia and Havelock have not yet had time to implement their plan.
The vox buzzes and it is patched through to the bridge, where you are all currently situated-
Rogue Trader vessel Void Wolf of the Demetrius Dynasty, welcome to Footfall. Please state your business, present docking codes and prepare your hangar to be boarded for routine goods inspection.
Lion nodded to Jerol to send the acknowledgment.
'You can send the acknowledgment Jerol but give it five minutes before you do. We don't want to appear to be too on the ball. Inspection crews are always most suspicious of merchants that are too on the ball and too gracious to see them.'
'A bit of inefficiency on our part makes them feel superior and to have the edge. Also being all smiles and happiness when you can count the costs they are wracking up as they go from hold to hold is bound to get them digging harder. A bit of muttering and cringing can be good for the pocket book.'
Lion then got on the vox box, 'Kilbert, I'll be needing the log and manifest books from my office. I'll also be changing when I get to my room. I think this occasion calls for my red outfit with the Benetek Crest on the shoulders. I think it is only appropriate to trump the family fame after such a passage. If I didn't crow a bit to them on something like that they would truly wonder if I was a Benetek or a cheap copy.'
Lion then headed for his quarters,
'Oh, and Minerva, can you turn out a bit of an armed party as escort. Not too spit and fancy, just make it look like it is. A last minute thing so they think we might be some savages putting on airs of civility. Inspectors love to have a couple of people show they have the bigger guns to cow people under with when they arrive.'
'I know, it is hard to avoid thinking of a dozen different ways you could probably render them subdued or dead but try to resist the urge. Taking a bit of knuckling under will get it out of there system and them quickly looking for someone else to bully around.'
Yes my lord," Minerva bows her head slightly, it shall be as you wish.
Minerva makes her way to the Crew's quaters, gathering a squad of guardsmen and heading towards the Quatermaster. Once there she quickly scans the equipment, selecting somewhat faded and scarred weapons and armour, the long-ignored livery of the Void-Wolve's elite guard.
The uniforms are a deep blood-red with gold trim and epaulettes finished with faded greyish trousers. Slecting a blood-red greatcoat for herself, she leads the soldiers towards the hanger.
Jerol turned to Havelock.
Well that certainly seems to be enough camo cloaks, A specialist unit would be very useful, especially going into unknown territory. Ill get onto training them in concealment tactics and I'm sure we can spare some long las's for the unit.
Thinking for a moment, Jerol responded to Preatia.
I don't really like the fact that we have to account the whole cannon crew for the actions of few. Plus, if we kill them all, we no longer have a cannon crew. And it would certainly spread distrust throughout the ship. However do we have many other options? These cults can be very destructive, but would it be more detrimental to have no cannon crew? Perhaps we could find a way of infiltrating the cult, with some of the new mercs that we hired. We can find out how big the cult is, and take out key members, leaving the rest too scared to act. We wouldn't have to risk killing most of our defences then.